The great fields of Elysium beckons, with warm tender embrace, The hall of poetry and golden mead, that sight a welcome space. With ancient pledges fulfilled, I long for song, dance and peace, In the warmth of my beloved, with her tender face, find release. Long has this old soul roamed, from time to time and place, Tired and exhausted, from the never ending relentless chase. For the simple do I long and yearn, filled with love and care, A true companion, with whom the voyage of life I can share. Like a wolf in the expanse of the great open wild, long lost, Am I to yet find earthly warmth, before the coming of frost. Prowling through the wild seeking mead and a cosy den, Yet then the golden fields of wheat beckon to me again. The weaver of many strands, only she knows my true fate, Her spinning and magic, beyond understanding, yet great. Guiding me through a maze and path, as ancient as time, Cosmic river of stars, that truly are most sacred and divine.
